


Rhiannon

by smithandrogers



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Comfort, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Shooting lessons, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25933228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandrogers/pseuds/smithandrogers
Summary: Molly thinks she's useless and Sadie thinks she's a loner. Maybe they can help each other grow.
Relationships: Sadie Adler/Molly O'Shea
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Rhiannon

**Author's Note:**

> _All your life you've never seen  
>  A woman taken by the wind  
> Would you stay if she promised you heaven?  
> Will you ever win?  
> \- Rhiannon, Fleetwood Mac_

Sadie had grown to like guard duty. Pacing the shores at Clemens Point was almost… relaxing. Not that she had felt truly relaxed in months, but this was adequate enough to keep her going. It was peaceful and looking out on the lake made her feel small; made her problems feel a little less overwhelming. And usually, it was quiet. But just now, there was a soft, shuddering breathing coming from behind the boulder just ahead, with an occasional whimper and sob. Normally, Sadie kept to herself. And unless it was Abigail or Arthur, she didn’t speak much to anyone else. As she spied around the boulder to see the mane of auburn hair, she found herself wanting to turn around and walk back the other way. Molly kept to herself too. She didn’t speak much to anyone else either, unless it was to pick desperate fights with some of the younger girls. She probably wouldn’t like Sadie butting in on her business.

Another sob, a little more heart tugging than the last. Sadie sighed. She could at least… ask if she was alright? Yes. That was a polite thing to do, caring but impersonal. She stepped carefully around the boulder, sure to kick just enough pebbles so that Molly could hear her coming. The sobs stopped immediately, and Molly straightened, moving faster than Sadie had seen anyone move. She kept her face turned away, but Sadie could see her blotting her eyes with a handkerchief. Sadie cleared her throat and said awkwardly, “Are… are you alright.”

“I’m fine.” Was the terse response.

“Right.” Sadie said quickly, “I’ll leave you.”

She turned and started back the other way. “Wait.”

She did but didn’t look back either. “You… don’t really know me… and I don’t really know you.”

Sadie frowned, unsure of where this was going. “Sure. I guess”

“So you’re impression of me… Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Sadie grumbled a little to herself. This was going to take a moment. She turned around and slung her rifle over her shoulder. “I think you’re spoiled.”

Molly’s big eyes were on her: green and pleading and red-rimmed. “That’s fair.” She looked down at her hands, wringing her handkerchief, “Everyone thinks I’m useless.”

“I mean, you do act useless.” Sadie blurted, but quickly realized that was probably too harsh and added, “But you’re here, and no one here is useless. Even Uncle has a purpose… though I have failed to figure out what it is yet.”

That made Molly giggle a little. It was a lovely sound. “I think me use is keeping Dutch happy, but…” Tears began to well up in her eyes again, “What happens when I can’t do that anymore?”

Sadie knew where this was going. She wasn’t blind. She was well aware of the way Dutch sauntered around and twirled his mustache at Mary Beth. It was enough to drive any woman a little crazy, but if you were a woman whose only purpose was to hang on the arm of said wandering man. “Then there’s other things you can do, I’m sure.” Sadie said quickly, trying to stave off another wave of tears, “Even the finest ladies know how to sew.” She sat down next to Molly, “I mean I’m not good at it, but I’m sure those little hands can make some neat stitches.”

“I mend Dutch’s clothes.” Molly offered, “You think mendin’ the others will help?”

“I know Abigail and Tilly wouldn’t mind you take some of the load off of them.”

“I’m just…” Molly sighed, “I’m not really built for this, you know.”

Sadie looked her up and down and held her tongue. Her dress had gold thread. Her perfume was light and lovely, and she was better bathed than almost anyone in camp. Her fingernails were clean and shiny; her lips red and her hair… “Even ladies of high standin’ need to take on some work to get things done. You could feed the chickens.” Sadie started talking before her mind wandered further, “It ain’t dirty work. You could…”

“Learn how to shoot?”

Sadie was dumbfounded, and it must have shown on her face because Molly quickly retreated back, hanging her head and mumbled. “No. That’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Sadie said softly “For someone to want to know how to defend themselves.”

“After Blackwater,” Molly said, still looking at her hands, “I have this fear of… just some crazy man comin’ ragin’ into camp and just…” She shuddered, “I’ve never fired a gun in me life.”

“That ain’t a bad thing.”

“But I don’t the first to time to be when I need to do it, you know?” There was conviction in her voice, “I don’t want to be as helpless as everyone thinks.”

There was a little furrow in her brow as determination crossed her face. “Being a stupid damsel is getting old.”

Before she could stop herself, Sadie found her holding out her hand to Molly. No, Sadie, she thought as Molly looked down at her upturned palm, you ain’t supposed to get close. “Let’s go then.”

“You…” Those big green eyes widened, “You’d teach me?”

“It’s Lenny’s turn to walk the beach anyway, so,” She shrugged, “Why not?”

Against her better judgement, Sadie found herself leading Molly to the field out beyond the band of trees that protected the camp from the sight of the road. She lined up some empty bottles she had stolen from around Swanson’s bed roll and lined them up on the decrepit old stone wall of what once had been the farmhouse that overlooked the field. Molly seemed almost giddy, pacing back and forth in anticipation. She stared in awe as Sadie held out a revolver to her. “You know how to hold it?”

Her lips pressed together in a determined little grimace. She nodded. “I think so.”

Molly took it gingerly, soft fingers brushing against Sadie’s calloused ones. She fumble with it for a moment, the feel of it no doubt foreign and awkward, until her hand settle firmly around the grip. “Now, I ain’t gonna show you how to load it or anything,” Sadie said, moving to stand behind her, “That’s another lesson, so we’ll just focus on the ‘pullin’ the trigger’ part.”

Molly nodded, nervous. Sadie stepped forward hesitantly, and, when Molly made no indication of discomfort, reached around her, placing her hands over Molly’s to better place them on the gun. She gasped a little at her touch, but masked it in a cough. Sadie still noticed and her cheeks grew hot. Focus. “Hold it with two hands. You ain’t a gunslinger yet, you’ll need ‘em both to hold it steady.”

She guide Molly’s other hand to support the butt of the revolver to hold it steady. “Don’t ever put your finger on the trigger unless you mean to shoot something.”

Molly nodded. “I understand.”

“Now pick a bottle, and square yourself to it. Stand with your feet shoulder width apart.”

Molly did so obediently. “Alright, now aim at it. You ain’t gonna be steady at first, it’s okay.” Sadie started taking deep breaths, and Molly started breathing in time with her, “Good, now we’re gonna pull back the hammer. It’s gonna click three times. One,”

Click.

“That’s the safety. Two, that’s to empty the bullets,”

Click.

“Three, we are live.”

“Okay.” Molly whispered.

“It’s gonna kick. It’s gonna be loud. Pull the trigger when you’re ready.”

Molly jumped back into her as the shot rang out. Sadie’s hands went instinctively to her waist to steady her. She was squealing and jumping about with excitement. “I did it! I did it!”

She hadn’t hit the bottle, but her confidence was amusing. Sadie stepped back. “Alright, shooter, try it on your own this time.”

Sadie watched as she readied herself and tried to swallow the thoughts of her last night at home. What if she had been like Molly? What if she hadn’t known how to fight? But she had, she told herself, and she was standing here. And maybe Molly say the same one day. “You know, we’ve never spoken before.” Molly said.

“I don’t really talk to anyone.”

“I just meant… I never… And I don’t mean… I’m sorry.” She said, awkwardly, trying very hard to steady the pistol, “I’m sorry that you ended up here with us.”

It was kind of her not to continue; to be conscious of the scars that still weighed heavy in Sadie’s chest, that left her bitter and distant and angry. “Bad things happen sometimes.” She said quietly.

“But the bastards didn’t have to go and burn down your home while they were at it.”

Bang. She missed, but there was still a triumphant smile on her face.

Sadie frowned. “Micah,” She spat, “Burnt down my home. The idiot.”

Molly spun around, distraught. She opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it, shoulders sinking. She turned back to face the bottles. “Dutch has been lying for him for a long time.” She said harshly, “I’m not surprised.”

“It’s… It’s alright.” Sadie replied gruffly, “Not that he has ever cared to apologize, or feel bad.”

“You know,” Molly said, “Me Pa had a gardener. Can’t remember his name; he was a rebel…” Her voice grew distant, “The English hung him when I was thirteen. He had killed men, but he always said that even though they were English, he still felt their lives on his heart. ‘Remorse’ he would say, ‘Is what separates us from the beasts. If you can do harm and feel nothing, then there’s no man left’.”

Bang. Miss.

“Dutch killed a girl in Blackwater. He’s had nightmares. That’s how I know he’s still a man. Micah… he kicks the dog and laughs.”

She spun around and stepped quickly towards Sadie, panic in her eyes. “Oh, please don’t tell him I said that, he’ll…”

Sadie pushed the muzzle away. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Molly relaxed, her smile returning. “Thank you.”

“Now, you still got four shots left to your lesson.”

Bang. Miss. A little huff of frustration.

Bang. Miss.

Bang. The sound of shattered glass filled the air. Molly squealed with delight and dropped the pistol out of excitement. “I did it!” She spun to face Sadie, “I hit it!” She bounded forward, “Did you see that? Oh, thank you!”

She wrapped her arms around Sadie and planted an enthusiastic kiss on her cheek. Sadie felt as if she had been struck by lightning. Her fingertips tingled. Her spine went stiff. Her skin burned Molly’s lips met her skin. “You sure did.” Sadie croaked.

The sensation of the kiss lingered even after Sadie had walked the now very smug Miss O’Shea back into camp. When she sat down by Abigail, the other woman raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

And for the first time in a long time, Sadie said, “I think so.”


End file.
